


A Very Respectable Marriage

by WerewolvesAreReal



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: 19th-Century Sexual Revolution?, Accidental Marriage, Because Dragons, M/M, Post-Canon, Tharkay's mysterious estate, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 11:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18150995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewolvesAreReal/pseuds/WerewolvesAreReal
Summary: Temeraire pushes to pass a law that lets dragons adopt human families. Issues with the paperwork lead to some unexpected, but not unpleasant, consequences.





	A Very Respectable Marriage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Peggaboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggaboo/gifts).



The bill is passed on an otherwise un-extraordinary day in March. Laurence is struck with a cold, but waves away Temeraire's fussing and insists he attends the meeting at London alone. Temeraire, Perscitia, and the other dragons of Parliament have been working hard at the bill for months, and Temeraire deserves to see it passed.

The new law is titled “A Measure to Distinguish the Status and Familial Connections of Dragons and Companions.” It was instigated by a complaint from Churki, Hammond's companion, when the dragon found herself stymied by England's guardianship laws. Soon after the end of the war one of Hammond's cousins was left orphaned; the child subsequently passed to a couple on her other side of the family. Those kin were distant though accepting of Hammond's household, but flatly refused to let Churki see the child.

So then Churki insisted that _she_ should be the baby's guardian, which would be a rather difficult prospect on all ends. The contested bill is, in part, a compromise, and Laurence has an inkling that it has only passed because the members of Parliament are afraid of their children being outright abducted by protective dragons if they do not concede _something._

Dragons can now register their human 'families' and are given certain legal rights by association. Laurence already knows there will be future amendments to the bill – Churki, apparently, has already tried to adopt an entire village, and even Perscitia is proving unusually possessive of Wellesley's household. But it's a start. For underage family members a dragon has nearly the same rights as a parent, and dragons automatically become partial guardians of anyone born within their extended clan.

When a dragon's primary companion is an adult...

“I do not know what my father would have thought,” Laurence says, “if I had tried to introduce you as my brother.”

“Well, he is dead, so his opinion does not matter,” says Temeraire prosaically. “Anyway you are also the son of the Chinese Emperor, and I think all dragons are considered his children by Divine Right.”

“Which I am sure would greatly comfort the late Lord Allendale,” says Tharkay, lips twitching when Laurence shoots him a look.

They're situated at Temeraire's pavilion to look over the official paperwork. Laurence still feels his illness – his head is spinning, and he can't breathe properly, and mostly he just wants to return to bed.

“At least they made the documents easy,” Temeraire sniffs, pointing at the sheaves in Tharkay's grasp with one delicate claw. “There are separate documents for immediate family, and then another for extended family – like your mother and George, Laurence, do you think they would mind? - and then of course Tharkay must be listed. Now if you see form 10c, beneath that paper...”

The papers are only uncomplicated to a creature who, for example, enjoys taxes and tries to disprove mathematical formulas for fun. Tharkay soon wears an expression of extreme skepticism as he separates the documents under Temeraire's instruction. Laurence gives up after a quarter of an hour and rests his head in his hands.

It takes them nearly two hours to complete the forms to Temeraire's satisfaction. “There, that was very easy,” says Temeraire. “Now, could one of you accompany me to town this Friday? We need to file them properly...”

“Laurence will accompany you,” Tharkay volunteers, and, well. Laurence probably deserves that.

* * *

They forget about the paperwork.

Temeraire takes great pride in introducing Laurence and Tharkay as 'my family' whenever he can, a spectacle that always fills Laurence with indescribable fondness.

When Tharkay calls him toward the drawing-room a few months later, saying they need to discuss some legal matters, Laurence is surprised to find a young lawyer waiting for him.

Laurence glances toward Tharkay, but his friend looks incredibly amused. He's outright _smiling,_ almost baring his teeth toward the poor lawyer. Raising his eyebrows, Laurence sits.

The lawyer squirms under their attention. “Admiral Laurence. Thank you for joining us. My name is Dunstan Sidney, and I am here today because – well, it is all quite irregular, and I regret very much that the mistake was made at all...”

“You might explain the mistake,” Tharkay prompts, leaning forward. He shoots Laurence a look of familiar mischief that immediately makes him suspicious.

“Yes. Of course,” says the poor lawyer, who proceeds to fiddle with his bag and rifle through some official-looking documents without explaining anything. Nervously he sets them down, then picks them up again, handing one to Laurence and another to Tharkay. “There is no simple way to say this,” the lawyer tells them. “But I am afraid there was an irregularity with the paperwork you filed, intending – so I assume – to name the Celestial dragon Temeraire as the draconic guardian to your family.”

Laurence frowns. “I do not see why that should be a problem.”

“It is not, of course. But, you see, those same documents listed yourself and Mr. Tharkay as – well, married.”

Sidney pauses as though to let these words sink in. Laurence looks at Tharkay, who is still more amused than the situation seems to merit.

“...Well, of course it is invalid,” says Laurence. He should probably be at least a little alarmed, but he has already been accused of treason and worse in his life, and somewhere beyond the house a protective twenty-ton dragon snoozes in the yard. He has nothing to fear from accusations of sodomy, even should anyone choose to make a fuss about a clerical error in the first place.

“Ah, no,” says Sidney, now even more embarrassed. “You see, the law was unclear – a little vague, I mean. Which is to say, the law was aimed at allowing the legal recognition of new family bonds, and all the terms were left quite gender-neutral... and species-neutral... at the behest of dragons. In short, admiral, you are actually married under the law. But I have brought annulment papers. Naturally the divorce request was approved at once... and I hope you know that no one will judge you for this most unusual situation; we will naturally be amending the law to prevent such a misunderstanding from happening again.”

Laurence looks down. The document Sidney handed him is an official marriage certificate. He regards it blankly as Sidney rifles again through his bag, bringing out another paper labeled AGREEMENT TO VOID MARRIAGE.

“It will take just a minute,” assures Sidney, a little intimidated by Laurence's silence.

Laurence looks at the man. Then he looks at Tharkay. Tharkay's grin has softened, but his eyes hold a familiar challenge.

Slowly, Laurence sets down the marriage certificate and leans back in his chair. “I am afraid that you have come this way for nothing,” he tells Mr. Sidney.

“Excuse me, Admiral? I do not understand. All I require is your signature, and this whole embarrassment...”

“Do you think I am embarrassed,” Tharkay asks, “to be married to such a respected aviator?” He slants a sly glance toward Laurence. “Not to mention a prince. I wonder, does this give me a title?”

“No,” says Laurence, who has no idea.

Sidney looks between them like he's waiting for the punchline. “I do not understand,” he repeats.

“I beg your pardon,” says Tharkay, gesturing gracefully toward the door. “I am afraid my husband can be a bit shy.” He ignores Laurence's snort. “But there is no mistake. I am sorry you have traveled so far without purpose. Now, is there anything else you require?”

Sidney gapes at them. “Sir – no mistake? - but then...”

Sidney stares between them with dawning horror, pulling his briefcase against his chest like a shield. Laurence stifles a laugh.

“I can show you the exit,” Tharkay offers, but before he can rise the lawyer flees.

They both look at one another as the door closes.

“You enjoyed that,” Laurence accuses. Tharkay grins at him.

“Of course I did,” he says. “And so did you. Now, let us go wake Temeraire; I think I know what hopeless cause he will be pioneering this month.”

* * *

 

The _Times_ publishes the whole thing four weeks later.

The title reads “NEW DRAGON LAW RESULTS IN SODOMY, SIN, & BESTIALITY.” Tharkay abandons his breakfast to cackle over this pronouncement while Laurence actually reads the article to figure out why they're being accused of _bestiality._

The article doesn't really clarify matters, but it does inform readers that Tharkay and Laurence are married, and goes on to lament the reign of Satan over the country of England, which is now apparently ruled by “elevated Snakes seeking to throw our men into licentious Orgies, whom after such temptation will throw out their Women and leave the nation's children Orphaned and Neglected.”

“My mother is going to read this and think I'm intimate with Temeraire,” Laurence reminds his new husband. But this only delights Tharkay further; he suggests publishing a letter with the _Times_ reminding them of the improbable physical nature of a dragon-human mating. Tharkay is fairly certain he could manage the requisite diagrams. Laurence vetoes this proposal, but they do, in fact, get a letter published.

It's actually a small, neat notice sent to the _Edinbourgh Report._ An announcement of marriage. Subsequent papers around the country immediately devote themselves to dissecting the notice, a few of them printing special issues to have a chance at insulting Laurence and Tharkay before their competitors.

Strangely Temeraire seems oblivious to the fuss; but of course he cannot read papers, and even as several weeks pass Laurence and Tharkay conclude that no one has dared broach the subject with him. But sooner or later someone will insist on revisiting “A Measure to Distinguish the Status and Familial Connections of Dragons and Companions” from a legal standpoint.

Before this can happen, though, their friends visit.

* * *

 

Their relationship started in 1816.

It was, Laurence can admit only to himself, long overdue.

In later years Tharkay will take great pleasure concocting wild stories to explain how they got together. In truth they owe everything to Admiral Roland.

Roland visited them soon after the war's end to complain about their ongoing work in Spain. She clarified that her complaints should in no way cause Laurence to feel guilty about quitting the aviators; doubtless his presence would only incite greater chaos.

Then, while they obligingly walked her around the manor's exterior to point out some renovations, she paused and turned to them.

“Settle a bet for me, if you please,” she says. “Excidium has been very nosy about relationships lately; how long have you both been having sex?”

Laurence's brain stuttered to a halt as he tried to parse the question. After a few frantic moments it became clear that, yes, she was talking about him and _Tharkay._

“I am afraid you are under a misapprehension,” said Tharkay, polite and unruffled. “We have not had relations yet.”

“Really?” asked Roland, while Laurence went very still and fretted over that word, _yet._

Perhaps it was actually a Mandarin word, or Spanish. Or there was some definition of the word heretofore unknown to Laurence...

“You ought to hurry, then,” Roland says. “ _He_ will never make the first move, but the sex really is quite good.”

Laurence expired on the spot. Tharkay thanked her for the advice.

After she left Tharkay pulled Laurence into his bedroom without any speech. Laurence tried – briefly – to point out that the proposed activity was _illegal,_ which did make Tharkay back away a few minutes to eye him in judgmental silence.

Which. _Alright._ The criminality of their relations isn't an impediment.

But they should at least _pretend_ to care about the law.

* * *

 

“I can't believe you didn't tell us,” says Berkley, enraged and delighted.

“I can't believe you didn't tell _me,_ ” Granby emphasizes, glaring specifically at Laurence.

“It took about two years for Laurence to admit himself that we were involved,” explains Tharkay. “I thought it best not to press the matter.”

Everyone nods like this makes perfect sense. Laurence occupies himself with trying to drown in his wine; at least Chenery and Little brought some good alcohol.

The dragons, of course, are all very curious about the fuss. “Though we really cannot stay long,” Lily tells Temeraire. “Harcourt says that the admiralty wants us far away when you start arguing with Parliament in earnest, so no one will get nervous and change their votes, or think we're overthrowing the government, and such.”

“One formation is not enough to overthrow the government,” Temeraire says. But his voice is disturbingly thoughtful.

“I should have known you would rouse the hornet's-nest even in retirement,” Granby says. “Did you know, _three_ aviators registered themselves as married down by Portsmouth? And someone at Loch Laggan claims to be married with their dragon, though that might have been an actual mistake.”

All the dragons are _very_ curious about this latter anecdote, so the conversation quickly hurries on.

“Anyway,” says Chenery, “I cannot imagine what your family has said, Laurence.”

“Surprisingly little,” he admits. He still marvels that the aviators have taken the news in such stride.

“Lady Allendale I think has chosen to ignore all news concerning Will,” Tharkay volunteers. “His brother has invited us for Christmas, but says he will not be mentioning their relation in public,” which everyone agrees is very fair.

Suddenly Iskierka unravels herself from nearby and leans her head close to Granby. “Do humans need to consent to become part of a dragon's family?” she demands.

“Er, no. They are notified, but...”

“So does that mean,” she asks, “That I could marry the king, and inherit all the gold in England?”

\- and the conversation devolves from there.

* * *

  
The law _does_ need revisions, as demonstrated in June when a Bright Copper declares himself wedded to the entire population of Coventry.

But the changes are surprisingly restrained, and focus mainly around the consent of human partners and the numerical limits of an adopted family. Temeraire later explains that some humans on Parliament have since been adopted by dragons themselves, and others apparently see significant benefits to keeping their estates overseen by creatures who ubiquitously possess a two-century lifespan and financial cunning.

“Although it is strange,” says Temeraire, a bit puzzled. “Some of the more conservative members argued for quite awhile. And then I was talking about marriage, and mentioned that it is a pity you cannot have children with Tharkay, and suddenly everyone was much nicer. Perhaps they felt badly for you?”

“Oh dear,” sighs Laurence, while Tharkay bursts into laughter.

They wave away Temeraire's confusion. “Well,” Tharkay says. “Perhaps it _is_ a pity we are married, Will; only imagine how much we deprive the world, who will never benefit from the political influence of your descendants.”

“I expect every politician in England will thank God we found each other,” says Laurence. “Just as I do.”

 


End file.
